This is home to the adventures I have as Katrusha Skomorokhov Negadieva doch'. Feel to browse and explore class notes, projects, thoughts, and performance pieces that I have created. I hope you find this website useful.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Cock and Hen

A Russian fairy tale put to the tune of Maltese Bransle.

Written by Katrusha the Skomorokh

A hen and cock were walking through a barnyard oh so green

When suddenly the cock began choke upon a bean

The hen ran to the river's edge, her heart it sank with grief

“I need some water, please oh river.” “Then you'll bring me a leaf.”

The hen ran to the tree and sang “I have but one request”

“I'll give you leaves if you'll bring thread to weave within my nest.”

And as she walked away from there, she whispered in her head

“He can not breathe, he can not sneeze, he's laying like one dead.”

“Oh milkmaid give your thread to me. I'll bring it to the tree.”

“I will not give my thread to you till you bring milk to me.”

And as she walked away from there, she whimpered in her head.

“He can not breathe, he can not sneeze, he's laying like one dead.”

The hen ran to the cow to ask “What will you have me pay?”

“For milk of mine you'll have to bring a bale of new cut hay.”

And as she walked away from there, she shook her little head.

“He can not breathe, he can not sneeze, he's laying like one dead.”

“I will get hay to help my friend, I'm not ready to yield.”

“We mowers want a sharp new scythe to cut hay in this field.”

And as she walked away from there a few tears she did shed

“He can not breathe, he can not sneeze, he's laying like one dead.”

“The mowers want a sharp new scythe,” the hen began to say.

“Then get me coal to heat my forge for I ran out today.”

And as she walked away from there, she cried, her eyes were red.

“He can not breathe, he can not sneeze, he's laying like one dead.”

The Laians heard the hen's sad cry, their hearts they filled with woe.

“Of course some coal we'll give to you, sure as that cock will crow.”

And as she walked away from there, she pushed far from her head

“He can not sneeze, he can not breathe, he's laying like one dead.”

She got the coal, she got the scythe, and then she got the hay.

She got the milk, the thread, the leaf, the water right away.

But when she got back to the cock, her voice it filled with dread.

“You could not breathe, you could not sneeze, and lo, now you are dead.”

About Me

I'm a stay at home mom to a wonderful little boy.
I live in a rural area that allows me the peace and quiet I always wanted when I lived in other places.
I have varied and many hobbies, most of which the SCA is to blame for giving them to me.